


But there was no sound, there was only me and my disgrace

by Larkansnarf



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dead Billy Hargrove, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Rewrite, The Author Regrets Nothing, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28954605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkansnarf/pseuds/Larkansnarf
Summary: Max had told her she should try getting more involved in social activities and environments. It was fun and all- until it wasn't.Why was is always Eleven who paid the price for every little thing?
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Will Byers & Eleven | Jane Hopper
Comments: 7
Kudos: 5





	But there was no sound, there was only me and my disgrace

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-write of an old fic I did on another account, so if you are reading this, no you didn't.  
> (Season 3 spoilers, to those who have not watched it yet.)
> 
> 1\. This tales place when the party is 16, so around 2 years after season 3.
> 
> 2\. Billy is still dead because GOD I hate him so much.
> 
> 3\. I am also bias as hell so Hopper is still around and not "dead", and the Byers never moved.
> 
> I will be adding more tags as the story progresses. If there are any tags you feel I left out or that I should add, lmk. (Also if somebody can take the liberties of explaining to me how the hell to write my own custom tags, because I can't figure it out for the life of me, that would be awesome!) :)
> 
> I am writing this at 3:00 AM on a Sunday listening to an edgy spotify playlist I made for a TV show I am hyperfixating on. My goals are beyong your understanding.
> 
> Enjoy this heap of shit writing I threw together

In the walls of some house filled with people and music blaring at full volume, and random drunk couple doing god knows what in the bathrooms and the smell of alcohol wafting through every individuals noses, was the slim brunette curled in a corner besides a dresser, drifting in and out of consciousness. 

Max told her that she needed to open up a little and come with her and some of their friends to this party. Eleven agreed, after what seemed like hours of the redheads nagging and teasing. And, for the record, it was quite fun. Lucas and Dustin were there, and surprisingly so was Will. Mike had decided to come solely because he didn't want to be left out- and because his girlfriend was going, so of course he _had_ to follow her around like a lost puppy, like always.

El had been minding her business in a corner with a red cup in her hand and a warmth throughout her body, unsure of what to do while Max had dissapeared with Lucas - probably sucking face somewhere. Eleven had insisted that she didn't need anybody hovering over her shoulder all the time like helicopter parents, that she could handle herself. Mike had reluctantly agreed, because he just couldn't say no to her.

She had ran into an old foe there-one who seemingly didn't recognize her at first, which she was glad for. He offered her another drink after she had finished hers, and they talked for a little.

Mike was definitley throwing up somewhere. He strongly disliked the smell and taste of alcohol, Dustin was probably trying to flatter some ladies with his _pearls,_ which he had insisted that nobody could resist. Will would be with Mike probably while he hurled and supplying him with water and pats on the back and teasing words. Eleven wasn't sure, but it was safe to say that she was alone at the moment.

He had seemed nice, which was surprising since he was quite a dick in the past for what El could remember. She was wary of him, but he seemed to be chill at the moment so she had decided not the bring anything up. She was socializing, just like Max had suggested. El had been quite proud of herself.

He offered her another drink after she gulped down the last one, and they talked.

El mentioned that she was adopted and she liked soap operas, and he asked about her friends if she had any, and he payed attention to her. She let her guard down because he seemed nice.

Seemed.

She felt the alcohol kick in slightly after she had been finished with her third drink. So what if she got a little tipsy? She would still be capable of human-ing. Kinda. A little. 

Maybe she shouldn't have accepted so many drinks from him, maybe she should have kept her guard up. Maybe she should have known to not accept drinks from strangers or let somebody give her one too many to the point she was a boneless, giggling mess.

Because here she was, curled up in a half-ball on the floor, dizzy and drifting and sore and-

She could barely keep her eyes open. She had sat there for a good half an hour but god it felt a lot longer.

She couldn't pass out right here, she concluded from the part of her brain that still had two brain cells left to rub together and could still form coherent thought. It wasn't safe, and that she knew. 

Her eye twitched and she fiddled with the hem if her black jeans that _max_ suggested she wore. Her wrists had been painted in dark bruises that stood out against her olive skin. Bruises that _he_ gave her when he gripped her wrists so hard and had her pinned to the floor and-

"No," she whispered to nobody in particular. Her brain was screaming at her to get up, to move, to run out of this house and this cursed town and all of its darkness. But her body refused- it couldn't, not from the bruises on her shoulders and the aching pain in her lower abdomen and legs and the hickies that resided on her neck-

Mindlessly, her left wrist begun scratching her arm furiously, her nails leaving bloody streaks in their wake. She didn't even realize she was doing it, but somehow it felt right. 

_Get up,_ A voice in her head yelled. 

With trembling wrists, she reached down to pull up her underwear and jeans, which had been lazily pulled almost all the way down her legs. She tried with teary eyes to ignore the mess in between her thighs, the bruises and fingerprints a reminder of how he had pulled them apart with minimal effort- 

She looked around blindly for her shirt, not even bothering to find her bra, as it had been tossed somewhere around this random persons bedroom. She slipped it on, uncaring of how her fly hadn't been zipped all of the way, and she stood shakily.

She grabbed ahold of the dresser besides her in order to balance herself. Her head spun and she could barley even remember how to walk properly. 

Eleven sucked in sharp breath as she stumbled out of the room, trying her best to ignore the pain in her legs and her back, hiding her face as she manuvered past a crowd of random people and some stoned couple making out on the stairwell. When she had gotten done getting down 2 flights of stairs, she booked it towards the exit.

She didn't care that her friends were still in that house and would be worried once they had all gotten in Max's car to go home and El was nowhere to be found. She didn't care that it was dark and cold and it had started to rain. She wrapped her arms around herself and walked aimlessly for what seemed like hours. As long as it was away from that place. 

How she ended up back at the cabin without passing out from exhaustion or her drunkeness was beyond her. She barley registered that Hopper still wasn't home as she flung the front door open and swayed into her bedroom, collapsing as soon as she knew she was safe. That nobody could hurt her in there. Perhaps her brain and immune system prevented itself from shutting down until it knew she was safe, that she wasn't still pinned underneath him, that she was out of harms way, because now the exhaustion and the alcohol was really kicking in. 

El sighed and collapsed in the warmth of her bed, sleep weighing in on her and tugginf at her eyelids. She probably wouldn't remember this in the morning, except that she had gotten too drunk because she was stupid and ended up with a killer hangover. She probably wouldn't recall the incident, except for brief flashes in her head of hands on her shoulders and hips that would leave her wondering what happened, or if it really happened at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I will probably update this next time I get motivated at unreasonable hours at night.  
> I hope you enjoyy  
> Its 4 am im going to bed gbye  
> Critiaism and comments are welcome


End file.
